Train Poem #3

A billion stationary souls who settled

for a billion regrettable situations.

 

So sick of self control,

feeling vaguely unsettled,

trapped like cattle at forgettable train stations.

 

They can’t recall their names, let alone their destinations,

ears pinned down on the metal rails divining the vibrations,

September’s trembling petals clinging onto their carnations.

 

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